


The Cat and the Canary

by Molly_Hats



Category: Marvel Noir, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man Noir (Comics)
Genre: F/F, No editing we die like mne, Roaring 20s, Singer MJ Watson, Singing, Speakeasies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-06-29 23:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19840312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly_Hats/pseuds/Molly_Hats
Summary: MJ musters the courage to go to Felicia and ask for a job singing at the Black Cat.





	The Cat and the Canary

Mary Jane stood in the doorway of Felicia Hardy’s chamber where one of the security guys had left her. She straightened her shoulders and adjusted her dress. Her dress felt inadequate—reaching longer than was fashionable, crafted as cheaply as possible. 

She could tell that the room was an expensive one, even by the light of the moon alone. Moonlight let in through the open balcony doors shone on a bed large enough to fit MJ’s entire family, next to a vanity laden with powders, lipsticks, and accessories that set her mind racing with possibilities.

A voice MJ assumed was Felicia’s came from out of sight. 

“Who are you, and what do you desperately need to tell me?” It was a deep voice for a woman, tinged with cigarette smoke, scratchy yet hypnotic. It wasn’t what MJ expected.

“I’m Mary Jane Watson. Peter told me about you,” MJ said.

“He never should have told you.” Felicia stepped around into the light.

In the moonlight, her long silver hair seemed to glow, but it wasn’t her hair’s unusual color that made MJ step back. It was her scar covered face. Even in the soft, dim light of night, MJ could see ridges of scar tissue made sharper by shadows. 

MJ resisted the urge to jerk backward and hoped fervently that she hadn’t flinched. She’d known that Felicia was disfigured, but she hadn’t realized the extent.

Felicia’s eyes flicked up and down MJ as she continued. “Peter of all people should know better than to think dropping his name gets you anywhere.”

“I’m not askin’ you to fight anybody!” MJ said. “I want a job. I want to sing.”

Felicia laughed. “You think you can waltz in here and demand show time in the Black Cat? This is no place for a fresh canary to make her debut. This is the hottest speakeasy in the Big Apple, kitten.”

MJ straightened her back and raised her chin. “It was, back when it was neutral ground and people had to hide their hooch. But now everyone can see they’re not safe, and you’ve got scars to prove it. Morale’s low and your customers are down.” 

Felicia raised her eyebrows. “You’ve got moxie. But what do you really think your silver pipes are gonna do about that, doll?” Felicia said, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Don’t know,” MJ said honestly, but she smirked slightly as she continued, “but I’m a damn hard worker and I’m motivated. I’ll wait tables, I’ll serve drinks, just give me a chance to sing once a week and I’ll be the best employee you’ve ever had.”

Felicia raised her eyebrows, her scars pulling them into odd shapes MJ struggled not to acknowledge with her face. 

“Sing a couple bars for me,” Felicia said. 

MJ cleared her throat. “Anything in particular?” 

Felicia glanced over at her record player, catching a glimpse of a title only she could see. “You know The Way You Look Tonight?”

MJ nodded and cleared her throat. The hit had been playing on the radio for months now. She remembered seeing Swing Time with Peter and walking home together afterward, reciting various lines and skipping through half-remembered dance steps. 

She glanced over at Felicia and began.

“ _Some day, when I’m awfully low…_ ” 

Felicia’s arms were crossed over her chest. Now that MJ was getting used to the scars, her eyes drifted to the rest of her, and she could feel her cheeks growing hot. 

Felicia was dressed in a thin, silky pink robe with seemingly nothing underneath. As MJ watched, Felicia lowered her arms, revealing her black bra.

“ _And the way you look…_ ” MJ’s breath hitched, and she forcefully tore her eyes away to the balcony, “tonight.”

She managed to get through the rest of the song without incident, resisting the temptation to feel her cheeks to make sure the blush had vanished. 

What was wrong with her? A woman in a state of undress was nothing she hadn’t seen before in her own mirror. 

MJ finally glanced over at Felicia, who had an enigmatic expression.

“So?” MJ asked.

“Come in tomorrow at seven,” Felicia said. “Mattie’ll show you the ropes, teach you how to serve tables.”

“Thank you!” MJ said as calmly as she could. 

Felicia nodded. “Go.”

MJ nodded, turned, and hurried from the room, then out of the Black Cat and into the streets of New York

Once a fair distance away, she finally freed the grin that had been threatening her composure. “Yes, yes, yes!” She repeated under her breath, dancing down the street. It would be hard to balance working at the soup kitchen and working nights at the Black Cat, but it would be worth it in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> The Marvel Noir line is trash which is a shame, because I’m a ho for noir (played straight or parodied or anything in between. AN ABSOLUTE HO.)


End file.
